Burdens

[REW]

Thanks for returning Aschueler. Indeed it was on a window pane; well actually a whole window.  Back in the day I had happened upon a construction site.  Numerous windows were being thrown out, so I procured several for myself.  But I do not have to write pane; I could just refer to the window, or maybe the material doesn't need to even be mentioned.

Difficulties lead to a paradox.  Yes a person does build strength like in resistance training, but there is a haunting weakness too (or at least after a whole bunch of crap).  It comes and goes...I imagine it differs per person per culmination of experiences too.

I appreciate your feedback and will think about how to trim this down. 

Interesting idea there with the window pane.

Anyway, I was trying to nudge the overcoming from it a bit too much and make it your idea.  

Not the same but still:



Still I Rise
Maya Angelou, 1928 - 2014

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own backyard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

Oh I love her and that is a great poem, full of an empowering mood.  I have moments like those where I am at the top of a mountain invigorated.  But this isn't one of those times.  Sometimes hauntings waft up and there is just so much to carry sometimes.  But yes I become very inspired, empowered, and spiritual too.  

Oh her poem is so good.  She is an inspiring woman.   ><